


Four Entries for Summer Pornathon 2013

by lawgoddess



Series: Lawgoddess's Summer Pornathon 2013 Entries [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawgoddess/pseuds/lawgoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four short pieces written for Summer Pornathon 2013.</p><p>Some porn, some humor, some fluff, some "OMG! I can't believe they killed off Arthur!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Entries for Summer Pornathon 2013

**Challenge 4**

Prompt: Banging Bedframes and Slumbering Sluts (Sleep Kink)  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: Dubcon /Noncon due to sleep

The golden-haired prince fought his way through the thicket of thorn trees, hacking at them with his second-best sword. 

_Damn, no amount of sharpening is going to save this sword, _he thought. _I hope this princess is worth it._ __

But then he felt guilty for complaining. He was the Crown Prince of Camelot, and he was sworn to protect those in need, particularly if they were of noble birth. 

His name was Arthur, but he had overheard a couple of giggling maids saying that the people called him Prince Charming. 

And charming he was, and polite, and the kingdom’s best warrior. His parents, Queen Ygraine and King Uther, constantly let him know how high their expectations were for him. 

He was closer to his mother, and as he worked through the thicket he recalled that he had once confided to her that while all of the noble ladies he met were pleasant and nice to look at, he didn’t find them all that interesting. And he had even hinted to her that he had feelings for Lancelot that came close to The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name. 

But Lance had married one of the serving girls in the castle, and Ygraine had assured him that when the time came, his heart would tell him the right thing to do. 

“Always follow your heart, dearest,” she told him, and then kissed him on the cheek and said, “Aren’t you late for training? You always seem happiest when you are bashing things around with your friends.” 

Pushing aside thoughts of how he was indeed happiest when he was hot and sweaty and rolling around in the dirt with well-muscled young men, Arthur finally reached the clearing where the princess lay on an elaborate bed. He marched purposefully up to where she lay, prepared to kiss her awake, and got the biggest shock of his life. 

The Princess Emrys he had been sent to rescue was no princess. 

A _man_ lay on the raised bed. 

Arthur was brave and loyal and handsome. But even his closest friends would have to concede that he was not the most flexible thinker in the kingdom. 

He stood with his mouth open for a minute or two, then firmly clamped it shut and strode over to investigate the situation. 

It was a charming scene. The man was laid out on the most elegant bed imaginable, with hangings of pure white silk and fine lace, and velvet bedcoverings with rich embroidery. The man looked young and comely, with black hair and pale skin. His lips were red and had a very appealing cupid’s bow. 

Regardless of the gender issue, this man was clearly in an unnatural sleep, and clearly needed kissing. 

Arthur leaned over, making sure to arrange his cape artistically over the man’s body for maximum aesthetic impact, and touched his lips to the dark-haired man’s. 

Nothing. 

kissed him more firmly. 

Nothing. 

Finally he gave him a deep kiss, slipping his tongue into the man’s lax mouth. 

Still nothing. 

Frustrated at being unable to complete his mission, the prince thought aloud. “Is there _something else_ I’m supposed to kiss?” 

He ran his eyes down the man’s body, and saw that there was a nice stiff erection under the man’s trousers. 

_In for a penny, in for a pound,_ Arthur thought philosophically as he unbuttoned the trousers to reveal a formidable cock, purplish and handsome. 

It looked delectable. 

Arthur gave it a tentative lick, as if it were one of the ice lollies Cook used to make him when he was a boy. 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt the sleeper’s body twitch. 

Encouraged, because he hadn’t hacked his way through all those brambles to go home without rescuing _someone_ , Arthur bent to his task. 

He sucked in the tip of the man’s cock, then fed it into his mouth inch by inch, pulling back a bit when it hit the back of his throat. 

Then he licked and sucked the shaft and swirled his tongue around the head with a good will, enjoying it much more than was probably appropriate for the circumstances. 

He felt the hot rush of the man’s release on his tongue, and bravely swallowed it. 

The man awoke, and he had the most gorgeous blue eyes. He smiled at Arthur. 

Arthur announced grandly, “I am Prince Arthur of Camelot! Come away with me to my home!” 

“I am Emrys,” the man answered. 

And they lived happily ever after.

**Challenge 5**

Prompt: Canon Era  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: knifeplay

“You should have told me, Merlin.” 

Arthur’s voice at Will’s funeral pyre had been cold and hard. 

They had barely spoken on the trip back to Camelot. Arthur had remained aloof, and Merlin was so numb inside that he didn’t even try to talk. 

When they got back late on the second day, Merlin had accompanied Arthur to his chambers and tried to help him undress. But Arthur had turned his back on him, and said, “Go away, Merlin. I don’t want you around right now.” 

The next morning Merlin had gone to Arthur’s room as usual, but a guard had barred the door and said, “The Prince says your services are not required today.” 

***

Arthur didn’t let him come back for a week. 

Merlin knew that Arthur was angry because he thought Merlin had hidden the fact that Will was a sorcerer. But Will wasn’t a sorcerer. 

Merlin was. 

Merlin thought bitterly of his mother’s words. 

“You belong at Arthur's side. I've seen how much he needs you, how much you need him. You're like two sides of the same coin.” 

Well, it didn’t seem like Arthur needed him much. 

***

When he was finally summoned to Arthur’s chambers, Merlin didn’t know what to expect. 

Arthur was sitting at the chair by his table, cutting up an apple with a small dagger. He pointed it at Merlin casually and gestured at the chair, saying, “Sit.” 

Merlin sat, and watched as Arthur wiped the blade with a linen napkin. The freshly-honed edge of the blade shone in the morning sun. 

Arthur toyed with the dagger for a moment, and Merlin remembered how very fond Arthur was of sharp pointy things. 

And suddenly the dagger was pointing at his throat, the tip resting with a pressure that was just shy of drawing blood. Merlin held very still, afraid to even breathe. 

“You lied to me, Merlin. I saw what happened. You were the one who raised that windstorm. “ 

Arthur pulled the blade back just a bit. “You may speak when I ask you a question. Do not lie to me, or I’ll slit your throat. Do you understand?” 

Merlin nodded. 

He noted that Arthur didn’t look angry anymore, but that his eyes were bright with some strong emotion. 

“Take off your scarf.” 

Merlin raised his hands and fumbled with the knot, and when he had it undone he placed it on the table. 

“Are you a sorcerer?” 

“Yes.” Merlin trembled as he realized that the emotion he saw in Arthur was lust. 

“Very good. Take your shirt off.” 

Merlin thought about refusing, but Arthur looked dangerous, so he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. 

Arthur drew the flat of the blade across Merlin’s chest, twisting his wrist when he reached a nipple. Merlin felt the cold edge of the blade against the tender skin, and his nipple hardened. 

“Who do you serve?” Arthur asked, holding the blade steady. 

“No one but you, Sire, “ Merlin gasped. In spite of the fact that Arthur could easily slice off some tender bit of skin that Merlin would rather keep, he was getting hard in his trousers. 

He wasn’t really afraid. 

Alright, he was a little bit afraid. But somehow that made the situation even more exciting. 

“Stand up,”Arthur ordered. 

Merlin complied, and watched in horrified awe as Arthur drew the blade very lightly down the center of Merlin’s chest, down to his navel, pausing at the line of dark hair that started just below Merlin’s navel. There was no blood, just a tingling sensation, and Merlin started to shake. 

“Hold very still,” Arthur said. And he used the blade to cut the laces on Merlin’s breeches. 

The breeches fell to Merlin’s knees, exposing his smallclothes. Arthur slipped the tip of the blade into the waistband, and neatly sliced them open. Merlin’s rigid cock sprang out. 

He slid the blade between Merlin’s thighs, sharp side up, not hurting Merlin, but with the sharp blade very close to his balls. He asked his last question. 

“Do you swear to use your magic only for the good of Camelot?” 

“Until the day I die,” Merlin answered, riding the heady combination of fear and arousal Arthur’s skill with the blade aroused in him. 

“Good.” 

The blade clattered to the floor as Arthur took Merlin into his mouth. 

**Challenge 6**

Prompt: Light and Dark, Option: Light  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: none

That first day, when you swaggered up to me and demanded, “Do I know you?”, I noticed the light. 

It was behind you as you strode toward me, the morning sun shining on your stupid blond hair, and that stupid aggressive smile, and you looked like some sort of golden god. 

I hated you as soon as you opened your mouth, of course. 

But in the hours I spent lying on the cold stone floor of the dungeons, the first of many visits there chargeable to your account, I remembered the light of challenge in your eyes, and I wanted you. 

Still hated you, though. 

When you fought Valiant and defeated him, I saw you raise your sword to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd, and I saw relief and pride and humility playing across your face, and for the first time I understood what made you tick. 

You were made to defend and uphold Camelot, not just by accident of birth, but with your body and your soul and your heart. 

I knew then that you would die for Camelot without a moment’s regret. 

That night, I couldn’t sleep, even though I was exhausted. I kept replaying the fight with Valiant, and the way your sword flashed in the light. 

When you faced your challenge at the Labyrinth of Gedref, it was so bright as we sat at the table by the water. The light hurt my eyes, but I was more dazzled by your willingness to die for me. 

We were friends by then, and when we came back we became more than friends. 

I worshipped your body in sunlight and moonlight and candlelight and the light of a campfire when we slept rough. And your beauty shone in all of them. 

I think my favorite times were the rare mornings in your chambers when I woke up before you did. When you woke up first, you were always so eager, touching me and pulling me on top of you even when I was half-asleep and protesting that I needed to pee. 

But when I woke up first, I could look my fill. 

You looked so much younger when you were asleep, when you weren’t wearing the carefully controlled expression required to survive as Uther’s only son. 

I would drink you in, observing the way your eyelashes fanned out toward your cheekbones, those beautiful chiseled cheekbones that I loved to trace with my thumbs. The morning light would dance across your body, highlighting the muscles you worked so hard on in training every damn day, and the sparse hair on your chest, and your dark pink nipples. 

I would see all the scars on your chest and arms, and know exactly how much you had given for Camelot, and I would be selfishly grateful that none of the scars were on your face. 

Then I would tease the sheets down, being careful so I didn’t wake you, and I would notice the shadow of your navel, and the thin trail that led down to your cock, all plumped up and hopeful. 

And then I would lose all my restraint, and kiss you awake, sometimes with kisses on the mouth, sometimes lower. 

I loved the sex, I loved being inside you, I loved it when we brought each other off with our hands, or our mouths. But even more I loved the soft light in your eyes when you looked at me, and I loved knowing there was a part of you that was just for me. 

You could be playful in bed, or demanding, or rough if we were in the right mood, but there was never a single time when I didn’t feel like something precious under your hands. 

Or under your gaze. 

Our last conversations were mostly by firelight. I finally told you my secret, and you accepted it. I held you as the light faded from your eyes. 

You were the Light of Albion, and the light of my life. 

I wait for you.

**Challenge 7**

Prompt: Magic  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: none

Merlin had started it. 

Arthur was minding his own business, sitting in a council meeting listening to Leon go on and on about grain distribution (God, that man loved his number crunching, it was scary sometimes) when he had felt a rather odd sensation in his trousers. 

It felt like a feather, stroking ever-so-softly over his balls. Arthur tried to ignore it at first, but the stroking sensation intensified, and Arthur felt himself getting hard. 

He was going to _kill_ Merlin. But first he was going to take it out on his skinny little ass. 

Thinking about Merlin’s skinny little ass, draped over the table they ate lunch at while Arthur pounded into him, didn’t help with Arthur’s inconvenient erection. 

He shifted in his chair, feeling his face heat up, as Leon interrupted his discourse on the best practices for warehousing and rotating grain to ask, “Are you quite well, Sire? You look rather flushed.” 

“I’m fine, Leon, please continue,” Arthur said, trying hard not to squirm as the unseen feather traced around the head of his penis. 

The ever helpful George sprang from his position behind Arthur’s chair to open a window. George was an excellent manservant. Much better than that big-eared, insolent, over-sexed sorcerer who shared his bed… 

The thought was interrupted by a bitten- off cry as the tip of the feather tickled the slit of Arthur’s prick. 

He made it through the rest of the meeting, but had to sit alone at the council table for fifteen minutes before it was safe to stand up. 

_All right then, Merlin,_ he thought. _It. Is. On._

***

Arthur thought his punishment for Merlin was inventive and appropriate. 

As soon as he got back to his chambers he grabbed Merlin, manhandled him across his lap in the big chair by the fireplace, and spanked him until his arse was as red as a ripe strawberry. 

Then he dragged Merlin over to the bed and fucked him until he screamed. 

And he wouldn’t let Merlin wear pants for the rest of the night. Merlin looked adorable padding around the room in nothing but a tunic, and every time he bent over Arthur got a nice view of his sweetly blushing arsecheeks. 

Arthur had to hide a smile every time Merlin winced when he sat down. 

But maybe he didn’t hide his smiles quite well enough. 

***

Merlin’s delayed his revenge for a full ten days, long enough for Arthur to let down his guard. His mistake. 

He was sparring with Gwaine, shouting instruction to the new and veteran knights who were watching, when he felt something teasing at his arsehole. 

He was so surprised that lost track of what he was doing, and Gwaine knocked his sword out of his hand and tripped him so that he landed flat on his back on the ground. 

Gwaine, who enjoyed his rare victories over Arthur in training more than was really seemly, planted his boot on Arthur’s solar plexus and pointed his sword at Arthur’s heart. 

“Yield,” he ordered. 

As he lay there pinned, the object that had been teasing at his hole slid in in one smooth motion. The object had been slicked up, so it didn’t hurt, but it startled Arthur. 

He couldn’t seem to make his mouth work as the object, which felt exactly like Merlin’s penis, started fucking him very hard and fast. 

The other knights gathered in a circle around him, concerned that Arthur was turning bright red again and seemed unable to speak. Gwaine removed his boot and his sword, someone was shouting for water, and Lance knelt down next to Arthur’s head, saying, “Arthur? What’s wrong? Can you tell us where it hurts?” 

The hard fucking of his ass continued, picking up speed. And then the object in his arse seemed to swell to twice its circumference. 

Which is how it happened that with the eyes of all of his knights on him and Lance tenderly stroking his hair, Arthur dug his heels into the dirt, arched his back, and came. 

***

He was able to pass it off as a momentary seizure caused by hitting his head, although he wasn’t sure everyone was buying it. Gwaine had a rather lecherous grin on his face, and when Leon solicitously offered him his arm back to the castle, Arthur could see that he was manfully trying to suppress a smirk. 

Merlin was going to be sorry he was ever born. Arthur would make sure of it.


End file.
